Trying, Tiring, Tryouts
by Top-of-the-Castle
Summary: Amelia Winikus: Quidditch Captain, intimidation expert, and Tyrant Queen of Slytherin. Maybe those aren't all deserved, maybe she hadn't ever won the cup, and maybe her team mates teased her cause they thought she fancied the Gryffindor Captain. But there was no way these tryouts were going to be anything other than smooth. Just ignore the fire, broken ribs, and attempted sabotage.


The Slytherin Quidditch Captain liked 3 things: being prepared, winning, and saying things in groups of three. This year's team tryouts held promise for all of them. She was fully prepared with a tryout plan, which assured that she would have the best team, and allowed for her to say plenty of triadic phrases. All she needed now was for people to show up.

As she mentally rehearsed her plan, the hopeful Slytherins trickled down to the pitch. They were a mixed bunch, from wide-eyed second years right up to some seventh years looking for a stress reliever to distract them from their impending exams.  
However in that moment they all shared one quality. They were all intimidated by the Captain.

If you saw Amelia Winickus off the Quidditch pitch perhaps you wouldn't find her anything special in the intimidating department. Sure, she was a Slytherin and had a mean stare when she was annoyed, but she was relatively short for a 6th year and generally was just known for rambling when confronted with questions in class. However, in her Quidditch robes she was the Tyrant Queen of green and silver.

This title was mostly undeserved, and merely came from onlookers' exaggerated descriptions of a girl whose team hadn't won in several years. Nevertheless, it had stuck and spread, so the newcomers arrived warily, and stood silently in a clump waiting for her to speak.

Amelia had no real feelings about the nickname she had been given, if anything, it was useful. A reputation like that stopped her team from acting out for the most part, and in this instance allowed her easy control over the group in front of her, who otherwise probably would have been unruly. She let them sweat for a moment more, as she surveyed the potential players. She only knew a couple of them – the ones in her year and above, but it seemed that most of the group was made up of second and third years. She didn't mind that, the younger kids were easier to control and train anyway. The other ones, who had trained alone for years at home, or were older than her sometimes thought they knew better, and that led to conflict among the team, which she didn't want.

As Amelia saw Melody Harper's eye begin to twitch she decided she had let them simmer in anticipation for long enough. She had always found Melody a bit dismissive and self-absorbed though, so she enjoyed the moment while it lasted.

"Hello everybody and welcome to this year's Quidditch tryouts for the Slytherin team, we'll be shooting goals, Gryffindors, and for 1st place. Although none of you will be shooting goals because I already have my chasers, which you all should know already because you all read the poster. If you were incapable of reading the words 'only seekers and beaters need turn up' consider yourself warned, and prepare to be humiliated in front of the most popular people in Slytherin." She looked around, as if waiting for some mistaken abashed kid to raise their hand. With a shrug after no one came forward, she continued. "Those of you who did not bring your own brooms clearly didn't have much confidence in how you would perform today, which hardly inspires much in me, but seeing as only incredibly powerful wizards can fly without some mode of transport I suggest you grab one of the school owned ones from my brilliant keeper Molly now."

A couple of unprepared students hurried over to where the Captain had indicated and took dusty sticks from a tall blonde girl who smiled apologetically at them. Ignoring those now returning to the group as quickly and quietly as they could with their 'new' brooms, the Captain spoke on.

"I would like you all now to split into two groups. Those aiming to catch flying golden nuggets on my right, and those wanting to get pummelled by aggressive dirty balls on my left." As the group slowly split Amelia continued talking without ever seeming pause or take a breath. The starry-eyed second years hung onto every word they could. "As you all probably know, I infinitely prefer the Quaffle to the other balls with ruddy AI, which is why I'm a chaser. But that also means I need the absolute best beaters and seekers Hogwarts has so I don't need to worry about them. If I need to I will poach students from other houses and modify their memories so they believe they're from Slytherin and so will play on my team, but I sincerely hope that isn't necessary. It would be such a hassle. Now, Jacob." She turned to address a lean fourth year who clearly played chaser. "Watch over the seekers while Fab and I start off the beaters. Make sure all of them can do the basics, I don't want to waste my time with anyone who doesn't know which end of a broom to sit on. Molly after you've returned the rest of those brooms can you circle above –"

As she talked with her established teammates momentarily, second year Henry Wood, proudly clutching his state of the art Lightingbolt and standing among the potential seekers, leaned over to the beater group and nudged a fellow second year. The student in question was a muggleborn girl named Katherine Bennett with long brown hair who held a school broom with none of the pride Henry had in one hand, and in the other a bat that looked like it was weighing her down to the ground. She looked tiny. Maybe it was the oversized bat, maybe it was the fact that she was the only girl among a large group of large boys, or maybe it was just that she didn't seem to hold herself like a Slytherin. Henry thought she looked absurd, standing their awkwardly, hair ribbon flapping in her eyes. His ambition gave him confidence, and he couldn't see how ambition could affect people in any other way. The girl's ambition wasn't backed up by a famous Quidditch playing father, or years of training, in fact Katherine had only been on a broom during flying lessons last year. No, her ambition was a different sort, that made her nervous and uncomfortable, yet it made her determined to try. And that is what Henry couldn't see when he whispered;

"Girls like you can't play beater. You can't even lift the bat!"

Unluckily for him, the intimidating Slytherin Captain had finished her discussion, and Henry's definition of whisper clearly wasn't very good. She raised an eyebrow at him, and his proud demeanour fled as if she had cast _depulso_ on it.

"She can play whatever she likes. At least she has the determination to choose a position with some risk instead of picking the option where you pansy around gold-digging," she said, disdainfully.

She nodded her chin towards one end of the pitch and the seekers hurried off after Jacob, all silently justifying the importance of their role in their heads. She motioned to the left group of beaters to follow her to the other end, where a muscled 6th year boy, Fab, and the other chaser, an abnormally tall boy named Andres, stood with about 3 crates rattling at their feet. When they reached them Amelia instructed the beater hopefuls to mount their brooms and line up at a low height. There were about 11 of them, all big boys excluding the, by comparison, tiny Katherine.

As the beaters got organised in the air Amelia turned to her team mates with a question.

"So how did Davies' tryouts go yesterday?"

"They were pretty funny actually," Andres replied with a grin. "He needed two chasers, so we already have the upper hand, they're still going to be adjusting to working together in the first match. We've trained together for two years."

Amelia nodded thoughtfully. "No one spotted you?"

"Course not! Because, wait for it, they were too busy re-trialling the whole team! Something about being fair and being bleeding perfectionists. So much for loyalty, right?"

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it," added Fab with a knowing look.

"Exactly, anyway, Aidan was too busy to spot the best chasers, let alone spot a Slytherin under the stands!"

"We're going to beat his red and gold arse into the ground!" Fab said with a shout and wave of his bat.

Amelia smiled at his enthusiasm. "Well beating is your division, but —"

"But his arse is your division!" Andres interrupted with a fiendish grin. He quickly held up broom as a barrier between him and the quickly seething Captain. He repented when he saw her reach for her wand. "Kidding! Kidding!"

She glared at the chaser cowering behind the tail of his broom, then shot a warning look at Fab who was on the verge of uncontrollable laughter, pounding his bat into the ground.

"As I was going to say," she raised her voice over Fab's laughter, "beating is your division, but we need to find you a partner so you _can_ pummel Davies, his team, and his arse all the way to the muggle world where I'll never need to think about them again."

"That's right, don't hide from your feelings!" A shout from up high made everyone look up to see the keeper Molly flying above. "We all know you think about his arse!"

Molly quickly attempted to fly out of range when she saw Amelia's wand, but she wasn't fast enough. With the look of a Captain who was thinking that maybe the Gryffindors got something right in trialling for a whole team, because then she could get a new one, Amelia lifted her wand. With a mutter she send up a dark flash that hit Molly's broom and sent her spinning down to the ground.

"If you're all done with fooling around, I would like to continue my tryouts." She looked around with a warning eyebrow raised, and silence fell. Then she directed her attention to the group of beaters hovering in a line, who had been watching the conversation avidly for several minutes, but were now all anxiously glancing over to where the keeper had fallen. Amelia sighed. "Molly's fine, she knows _arresto momentum_. Besides I placed a softening charm on the pitch earlier in preparation."

"Now. There is more than just smacking bludgers in being a beater, or so I've been told," she glanced at Fab with a smirk, "it takes precision, endurance, and control. When you're a beater you need to be prepared to take a few hits and stay flying. You need to learn how to control the bludger, become its master"

Amelia pointed her wand at the jostling crates beneath her, then gestured to Fab and Andres, who opened the now still crates to reveal a dozen motionless bludgers. They walked along the line of beaters and passed a bludger to each of them as Amelia described the task they would be undertaking.

"I cast a freezing charm on these bludgers, which will last about another minute, so I'll be brief. You each now have a bludger, and all I want you to do is to hold it. Simple. If you let go you're out, if you fall off your broom, you're out. That's pretty much it. If you're not willing to do this, leave. I'm going to go deal with the seekers, but Fab and Molls will answer any questions you have and make sure you don't fatally injure yourselves." She smiled beatifically. "Have fun!"

She walked away with Andres following, still vaguely holding his broom between them for protection. The beaters were struck speechless. Then they all moved at the same time, scrambling in the air for a good position. Zachary Gamp, a beefy 4th year stuck his bludger down his robes and clung onto his broom like a monkey. Casper Lament, whose bright blond hair stuck out at all angles, got out his wand a performed a quick sticking charm so that the bludger would stay in his hand no matter what. Katherine curled herself over the ball, and, doubting her abilities to exert any control over it, prepared to instead let herself be controlled by the ball. She was, however, determined to not let go of her broom, and imagined she was wringing Henry Wood's neck as she tightened her grip on the stick. She was going to prove him wrong, even if she broke half her ribs in doing so.

"Andres, while it's on my mind, we should just check that we don't have any spies watching _our_ tryouts. Wouldn't want to give away our advantage."

"You really think Gryffindor's golden boy Aidan Davies would stoop so low?"

"No, but the Ravenclaws might. Gathering intel and all that. Just scare them off if there are any. No memory alteration!" She looked at him with a finger raised in warning. "We don't want a repeat of the Higgins debacle."

"M'kay, on it." Andres hopped on his broom and went to push off, then stopped momentarily and said slyly: "You know, Davies might show up. Not to spy of course, but just to watch you boss people around. 'Cause we all know he fancies you!"

Amelia shook her head at Andres, who had shot off as soon as he finished speaking to avoid any confrontation. Her relationship with the Gryffindor Captain was interesting for sure, but it held none of the romantic tension that her misguided team believed. They were rivals, occasionally friendly but mostly bitter. But her team was convinced there was something more, and had taken it upon themselves to tease her at every opportunity. And all because of one little comment she had made last year after a particularly hard practice when she was exhausted and probably delirious. She shook her head again. So much for that intimidating reputation.

She swiftly arrived at the temporary seeker's end of the pitch, and called everyone to order. When they were all attentive, and had stopped watching the beaters' struggles, she began her spiel.

"Seeking requires several things: stamina, speed, and perception. While the other roles require teamwork and cooperation, to be a good team member as a seeker you need to work individually and ignore everyone else in the game. Seeking is all about personal gain, which is why I think seekers are generally selfish asshats," she glanced significantly at Melody, "but it is, perhaps, a useful trait. So your task today will be simple. I've released a training snitch, the first one of you to catch it gets the spot on the team."

The prospective seekers looked around, first eyeing up their competition, then quickly scouring the skies for any glints of gold, each internally smirking at how easy the task would be, especially compared to what they saw the beaters doing.

"There will be one slight twist to the task." She grinned as the seekers began to look worried once more. This was really quite fun. "To truly test you we need to put you under a bit of pressure. Mount your brooms. Any person who knocks into anyone or anything will be disqualified, unless you catch the snitch in doing so. No that isn't the twist, I'm just setting some ground rules. Form a line and turn around so your broom tails face me."

Amelia lifted her wand and with a long wave and a nonverbal _incendio_ all the broom ends caught alight. The seekers all gasped in shock, and one girl went soaring off in fear only to crash-land a few metres away with a shout. Amelia sighed, and Jacob strode off to put out that girl's robes, to which the fire had spread when she fell. The other seekers remained frozen. Amelia continued her rules calmly.

"The fire will not go out when you fly, but speed does prevent the flames from moving towards you. If you stop for too long the fire will spread, and if it reaches the end of your tail sticks you'll be disqualified. And so we test your stamina, speed, and perception in one fun and simple task. You may begin."

The seekers all shot off immediately, eager to remain un-singed and and even more eager to emerge triumphant. Melody Harper swept past several slower fliers, subtly allowing her flaming tail to light their robes. Lance Fancourt started screaming when he realised that his hair was going up in flames and forfeited straight away. Henry Wood paused for a second in the sky to put on goggles, and then was able to see much better going fast without tears and dust streaming in.

After observing the seekers fly around in a panic for a few minutes, and giving a detention to Lance after he stunned Melody for lighting his hair up, Amelia started walking back over to her beaters. She was just mentally admiring Lance for his precision in hitting the flying Melody, and thanking him silently for taking her out of the running, when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Winickus."

She turned around, and cursed silently.

"Davies." She said, cordially. "What are you doing here? I thought Gryffindors said spying was immoral."

"I'm not spying," said the Gryffindor Captain, looking exaggeratedly affronted and putting a hand up to his chest. "If I were spying I would be hiding out in the stands pretending not to care. Like your friend was yesterday."

He motioned towards Andres who stood awkwardly in the stands watching them. When Davies turned back to her, Amelia saw Andres waggling his eyebrows at them in the distance. She had no doubt he was saying something as well, and was only thankful he was too far away to hear it.

"Next time send someone not so conspicuously tall," he continued.

"So why are you here?"

"I am merely here to offer support. As last year's victor —"

"Ah, I see, you're here to gloat. Didn't you get enough of that after the final?"

"Me, gloat? I would never," he grinned, "besides your team was up in the hospital wing with that kid, so I lost my chance then! No, as last year's victor I feel a certain responsibility to help and guide the other captains. But," he looked around at the pitch, at the panicked seekers in flames, at the beaters being thrown around violently, at Casper Lament who was finally being torn from his broom and pulled along through the sky by the bludger which was still attached to his hand. "You seem to have everything under control."

"Yes, I do," she said forcefully, "and we both know I should have won last year."

"But you didn't, and I'm here to remind you of our wager."

"Is now really the best time to do that? I really need to get back to my tryouts, so I will thank you to leave. Now."

"Okay," he lifted his hands in surrender, "but the first Hogsmeade weekend is the 24th, so…"

"Oh come on! Could you not come up with something else?" Amelia put her hand up to her face in exasperation. "I have a reputation to keep."

"I believe if you won you were planning to make me quit Quidditch," he paused mock thoughtfully, "or was it to make me send a howler to McGonagall critiquing her wardrobe. I can't remember now, but would you prefer one of those?"

Amelia grimaced, seriously considering the howler option for about 4 seconds until she realised it would probably end in her losing her captaincy anyway. "I'll see you on the 24th."

The grin that came from the Gryffindor's face could knock out a bludger. Amelia just wished a bludger would knock out him.

"Now get off my pitch! I have tryouts to run!" She brandished her wand at him threateningly and he backed up quickly.

"And you are doing a terrific job," he said, as he turned to walk off the pitch. A broomstick entirely engulfed in flames whirled around above him, and the screams from its rider echoed around the stands.

"Bloody hell." Amelia looked up and shouted to the student: "The fire is harmless. You're not actually in any danger. It was just an bloody incentive…" She trailed off, then resignedly shot a jet of water to put out the magical flames.

As she determinedly strode towards the remaining beaters yet another person waylaid her. Andres, as soon as he saw the Gryffindor Captain leave, had hurried over to find out details.

"What did light of our life Davies want?" He asked, before adding, "other than to watch you boss people around."

"To sabotage and destroy," she muttered angrily.

"Our team?" He said, shocked.

"No. My reputation. Now, enough of my time has been wasted, I need to deal with the beaters, go help Jacob clean up the seekers."

Even Andres could notice that now was not the time to bug the Captain about her love life, so he nodded and left.

"Ah, good, only four left," said Amelia, when she finally reached the beaters.

"Was that Davies I just saw?" Fab's eyes lit up at the opportunity to tease his esteemed Captain. Amelia glared at him. She felt like she'd been glaring all day, her eyes were getting tired of it.

"You sent the others packing?"

"You got it, and only two had to go up to the hospital wing, Molly took them, although a couple others forfeited after they saw the blood."

"Only two? That's far better than last year!" She looked at the beaters still going, impressed. "Still, I was hoping we wouldn't even need to do it, and only need a seeker this year. Oh, speaking of, have you been to see Trevor recently?"

"I went once at the start of the hols, y'know, complained about exams, told him how the match ended, though I think Molls owled him about it before term ended. But I haven't been back since, St Mungos gives me the creeps."

"I know, but it was a real pity, he was a great beater. We would have won. I guess he was always a bit aggressive with that bat."

Fab nodded thoughtfully and looked warily at his own bat.

" _Immobulus_." Amelia turned to address the four harried remaining beaters clinging to their brooms. The bludgers froze. The beaters dropped to the ground in relief.

"Now I'm sure you're all frustrated that I stopped the task before you were the winner, the last person standing, or should I say flying. But beating is not about winning, it is, as I said before, about precision, endurance, and control. As well as teamwork I suppose, but we work on that in training. You have all just demonstrated that you can control the bludger, as well as endure its strikes, now you need to show me that you can hit it, while enduring the lingering pain, as you would in a real match." One boy groaned louder than the others and shook his head. Amelia shrugged as he started crawling away. "Well, I want the three of you to pick up your bats, and meet me in the air in 2 minutes."

She stood for a moment evaluating the three potential beaters. Zachary Gamp clearly had the muscles, but he didn't seem like the brightest of bulbs, and her team relied on strategy over strength. Louis Nott, a 6th year, was a different story. He had seemed unfazed when she had suggested the task, probably because he had attended last years tryouts, only just losing to Trevor. Nott was also the least physically affected by the trial, and she had some sneaking suspicions he had come prepared. She respected that, but she didn't exactly trust him. Last was the 2nd year girl Katherine, who, if Amelia was honest, was a surprise. She had been tossed about the most by her bludger, but didn't seem as bruised as Gamp appeared. Perhaps it was because she was tossed about the most, that she hadn't tried to contain the bludger's energy in a small space, that she was less bruised. But as much as Amelia thought everyone should have a chance, she was dubious that Katherine would be able to hit the bludger with much force.

Amelia turned her attention to the remaining seekers. She would never admit this to the others but she was slightly worried. What if none of them caught the snitch? They wouldn't want to try again after a traumatic experience like that. Her plan only worked if someone was successful. Her mind raced through other options. Melody. She could get Melody to complain that her disqualification due to being stunned wasn't fair, and that she deserved another chance. Yes, that could work. It was a dire backup, but Amelia did know that Melody had the skills and temperament to be a decent seeker, and it would be easy to make Melody think it was her idea. But hopefully she wouldn't need to. There were still around five seekers flying around.

Amelia kicked off and joined Fab and the beaters in the air, she briefly explained that they would be taking turns in hitting bludgers towards Fab, and she would looking for precision, strength, and reaction times. Her distracted mindset, lingering from Aidan's visit and her concern regarding the seekers, quickly dissipated after Nott hit a bludger that soared right past her face. Full points for strength and speed of the ball, she thought, relieved it had shot past instead of knocking her out. Definitely less than full points for precision, she added to her mental notes, as she looked over at the ball's intended target Fab who was almost in the exact opposite direction. She decided she should really be paying more attention after that.

Katherine was the last of the three beaters to go, and as she took her place near the goals, ready to smash the bludger over to Fab, she noticed that down below Henry Wood had spotted the snitch and was almost within reach of it. Reminded instantly of his earlier comment about her lack of skills, she was fuelled with anger and a desire to prove him wrong. She also didn't want him on the team if there was any chance she was going to get on it, if fact even more so if she wasn't going to get on it. Her goal had shifted when he spoke to her, she now wanted to beat him more than she wanted a place on the team. As her bludger whistled ever closer she made a snap decision and angled her bat up. When the bludger was perfectly in range, and Wood was almost directly below, she swung the bat down and hit the ball with a _crack_!

Henry had no knowledge of the incoming bludger and his impeding ironclad doom, he was completely focused on the snitch flicking about in front of him. His hand made several desperate grasps at it, each time the winged ball flitting out from his fingertips at the last minute. If he hadn't been going so fast, in an effort to keep the flames on his tail at bay of course, he might have heard the tell-tale smash and swoosh of a bludger being hit towards him. But he was going so fast, so he didn't hear a thing.

The bludger hit his left arm, the one which wasn't outstretched in front of him, and while not a perfect shot it was enough to send him spiralling.

Whether luck is good or bad, of course, depends on whose perspective it is. In both Katherine and Henry's perspective they had good luck in the fact that Henry hadn't been seriously injured (for, while Katherine may have been initially happy if he had been really hurt, she probably would have got in a lot of trouble). Katherine had good luck in hitting her new nemesis and temporary target, but naturally Henry thought it was rather bad luck that he had been hit at all. Unluckily for Katherine, that was about the only thing that Henry had bad luck with that afternoon, because just before her bludger crashed down on his left elbow, his other hand managed to grab one of the elusive golden wings of his fluttering goal, which he kept held tightly as he plummeted down.

Afterwards, in Amelia's perspective, the whole situation was good luck. She found a seeker, who wasn't dreadfully injured, and who persevered through her extreme fiery task to succeed at any cost, and she found a beater, who had the strength, determination, and precision to hit a speeding flyer. Katherine was clearly someone who was like a bludger herself; unpredictably violent, wilfully competitive, and surprisingly small. It was safe to say she considered the tryouts a triumph on all accounts. She looked around her. All accounts except maybe keeping the pitch grass _not_ on fire. She grimaced and shot a quick _aguamenti_ at each cluster of flames.

After she suitably told off Katherine for aiming for another Slytherin and deliberately trying to sabotage a potential team mate, she sent everyone left back up to the castle while she cleaned up. She hadn't announced which students would be joining the team, though naturally Henry knew his place was assured, she had merely told them that she would put up the team list later that week on the common room wall. She had learned that keeping people waiting to some extent gave her more of an air of authority and command, which was something to be desired as Captain.

Henry had to admit, as he made his way along the path away from the pitch nursing a broken arm, he had been wrong. He didn't want to admit it certainly, but, as he twisted a certain beater's fallen green hair ribbon between his fingers, he reasoned that he should probably apologise. He told himself that it was in his best interests, he didn't want an enemy, especially one who could wield a bat so ferociously. But as he watched the girl who had proven him so wrong walk in front of him, stoutly ignoring his existence, he was filled more with admiration than ideas of self-preservation. He tucked the ribbon into his pocket with his non injured hand, and jogged a bit to catch up with her. When his apology was firmly denied, he shrugged, and rationalised that he had six more years to bring her around, and that apologising would give him plenty of opportunities to talk to her.

Some of Amelia's teammates helped gather the balls and brooms together as dusk fell, but they too were eager to head up for dinner after the stressful afternoon, so she was quickly abandoned when she told them they could leave.

There was something calming about being alone on the Quidditch pitch after sunset. The sky turned a a delicate green over the forbidden forest, beyond the stands, and the whole of Hogwarts seemed to be bathed in Slytherin colours. Even the black burnt patches of grass scattered around were barely noticeable in the light. She felt like she could do anything if the world always looked like this. She could picture herself winning each match, passing her NEWTs, surviving a date with the Gryffindor Captain, maybe even going on a few more, finally winning the cup which had evaded her for so long. She was going to win this year, she could just feel it.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!_

 _I just wrote this because I felt inspired and wanted to experiment with my writing style, and thought I would share because it's set in the HP universe, but if anyone wants me to write more I'd be happy to (maybe the other house tryouts, maybe more of Slytherin later in the year, w/e)._

 _Anyway, leave a review if you want, it'd probably make my day,_

 _Your benevolant Ravenclaw author (with admittedly Slytherin tendencies)_


End file.
